Dark Blue
by DonGiovanni'sGhost
Summary: Tweek isn't really the best person to offer help to anyone, but for Craig, he'll try anything.


**Dark Blue**

Title and lyrics from 'Dark Blue' by No Doubt

Tweek T./Craig T.

**A/N: This is one of the longest one shots I've ever tried to write****. Please be kind. Constructive Criticism is appreciated. :)**

I don't think that I've felt like this in a very long time. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to handle something like this? Me, Tweek, the crazy kid, the one who can barely control his motor functions, the one whose parents coddled and protected him and kept him from things like this. I'm actually a little scared and I'm not even in danger or anything. At least, not right this moment.

Craig is lying next to me, half asleep, staring off into space. I know how that feels. Space and I are pretty well acquainted. I like to stare off and get lost all the time, but I can't do that now. I can't because Craig is in my bed and he smells like sex and sweat and he's just so sad and I have no idea what to do about it. We've been fucking for the past month and it's been awesome, but he just wasn't really into it tonight. I didn't know why, so I asked him.

I wish I hadn't asked him. God, I wish I hadn't. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be worrying. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be about to jump out of my skin.

Craig shifts and looks up at me. His eyes are so deep and so blue they're almost black. They scare me and make me hungry at the same time. I want to eat his face every time I see his eyes, but society looks down on that kind of thing.

"Tweek…stop fidgeting and go to sleep." He mumbles, turning back over to resume his staring into nothingness.

I swallow hard. His voice sounds so dead. Well, it's usually pretty monotone, but, at least there's life to it. Now it's just hollow, like someone reached into Craig's throat and clawed out everything good about his voice.

"Craig…" I start, reaching out to touch his back. I like touching Craig. He's always so warm and his skin is soft and he makes all these really amazing noises when I touch him in the right places. He tenses, but lets me do it. "…are you going t-to tell anyone? Other…other than me?" He should. He really should. Then he could get help. He could get away from his house and all the terrible people in it.

"No. And don't you fucking tell anyone either." He rolls over and looks at me now and his eyes don't make me hungry all of a sudden. They make me want to run. They make me nervous. But this is Craig. Craig wouldn't hurt me. He told me he never would. He wouldn't hurt anyone. It's everyone else who's hurting him. I've noticed the bruises on his legs and back and chest before. I've noticed that they're never in places that can be easily seen. But I've never noticed just how dark they can get or how many of them there really are. I'm really too selfish for my own good sometimes. That's how I was raised, though. I don't blame my parents for babying me or for maybe being a little too over protective and keeping me at home more often than not. It's really not okay for someone like me to be left on their own. I trip and break things and I talk way too much and usually way too fast and I go to too many subjects. I make people uncomfortable because I'm about as socially adept as a thirty year old mouth-breather that still lives in his parents' basement.

"I won't, but…m-maybe you can talk to my mom? She's really good at k-keeping secrets." My mom is awesome. She is the best secret keeper that I know of. She's really the best mom anyone could want, even though I hear people call her names sometimes. They just don't understand how someone can be so loving and full of good things.

Kind of like how Craig is really full of good things. He looks rough on the outside, but that's because he has to protect all the good that's inside him. I get to see the good most of the time. When he's with me, he's nice and he's caring. He likes to lie in bed and kiss and he likes to watch movies with me and go for walks and pig out on pizza. No one else knows this Craig. This Craig is special and to know that these kinds of things happen to people filled with good things makes me feel like I'm going to throw a fit and break something.

"I'm not talking to anyone about it. I shouldn't have told you. No one needs to fucking know." Craig looks so sad. So hurt. I want to help. How do I help? How does anyone help in a situation like this? How do you help someone who is consistently beaten and terrorized by their dad and completely hated by their mom? I feel my fingers twitching, picking at and twisting the blanket in my lap. I can't help it. I want to explode and run to tell somebody, but Craig would hate me if I did that.

"Why not? Th-that's not normal, ass." Okay, so, I'm not very mature. But neither is Craig. Especially if he thinks that this is going to end here. "I want to help…t-tell me how to help…"

Craig sits up this time, rubbing his eyes. He puts his hand on my chest and I start to get butterflies in my stomach. When Craig touches me my stomach does that every time. It reminds me that he's my Craig and that he's probably going to kiss me.

But he doesn't kiss me. He pushes me. I fall back onto the pillows and blink up at him. "Wha-"

"You can't help, Tweek. Drop it." Craig looks mad. Shit. I made him mad. I don't like Craig when he's mad. Craig when he's mad is fucking scary. He gets up and starts looking for his clothes, limping a little. I don't know if I was too rough with him or if he's hurt from his dad. Oh man, this is so messed up. Craig is too proud to let me, but I have to try to fix it.

"Craig don't go!" I untangle myself from the sheets and tumble out of the bed with all the grace of a newborn giraffe, rushing over to him. I grab his arms and hold him tight, not letting him escape. I'm pretty strong for being so little. I'm a whole two inches shorter than Craig and skinnier, but I have hugs like a vice grip.

"Goddamn it! Tweek, get off! I'm going home!" he growls. Craig doesn't growl. He barely raises his voice. And he especially doesn't do it to me. Never me. I'm so shocked that I loosen my grip and he wriggles out, huffing and shoving his feet into his shoes. "But your dad is there! Why would you want to be where he is?!" I asked, completely not understanding. Why would anyone want to be some place where they can get hurt?

"Fuck off." Craig doesn't even look at me as he storms out. I can hear him stomping down the stairs and the front door shutting hard before I even register that he's gone. What the hell did I do? I was just trying to help him! I sit down on the bed and blink, biting my lip. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut. I should listen to my therapist and leave other people alone instead of bothering them all the time. I shouldn't have kept pestering Craig. But my brain doesn't work like that. I have to know the 'why' about everything. It's a problem sometimes, like now.

"Honey? What happened? Is Craig alright?" Of course my mom would come and check on me. She probably heard Craig being so damn loud. She's standing in my doorway, in her long pink light gown, looking a little ruffled. She must have gone to bed early.

I look up at her and frown. I can feel the tears coming. I'm such a baby sometimes. When something happens that I can't understand or can't do anything about, I cry. "H-He's mad…at me. I w-wouldn't leave him alone about something a-a-and he got mad and…left…" Fuck. I hate stuttering. It's not really stuttering. It's just that I shake so much from a mix of my medication for the long list of things wrong with my head and my caffeine addiction that it sounds like I'm stuttering. And I'm shaking hard right now. My meds wore off a while ago and I didn't remember to take them because I was so worried about Craig and now he's mad at me. Stupid Craig and his stupid dad who beats all of the good things about of him and his stupid mom who tells him how much she wishes he was never born.

I don't even notice how close my mom is until I feel the bed sink next to me and her soft arms wrap around me. I lean into her and let the tears fall, knowing that she just wants me to calm down. She smells nice and it's that familiar scent that eventually gets me to breathe and try to relax. She's just trying to keep me from having an episode and right now I really appreciate it. I don't think I really want to deal with that on top of what's going on with Craig.

"Sweetheart, you know your father and I love you. And I can tell that Craig cares for you too." My mom knows that we've been messing around, but I don't think she knows just how far we've gone. She and dad are weirdly progressive when it comes to sex and things. But it doesn't matter, really. I think she knows now, considering the room smells like sex and I'm only wearing my boxers. (I stopped wearing regular underwear when I figured out that the gnomes really don't care much for boxers.) "That being said," she continues, petting my short, frizzy hair, "I think you should probably go and try to apologize to him. Or talk to him. It's never good to go to bed angry with one another. Your father and I always try to talk it out before we say goodnight." She smiles down at me and I feel just a little better. She really is the best mom. Who else would let their sixteen year old child out at almost midnight on a school night?

"Just don't stay out too late. I don't want to have to worry. And take your medicine, honey. You're awfully fidgety." She kisses the top of my head and gets up, going back to her bedroom. I can hear murmuring as I get up and hurriedly get dressed. She's probably telling my dad what happened. Why couldn't Craig have good parents like I do? Why did his have to suck so much? I finally manage to pull on my shoes and jacket and, after dry swallowing a handful of pills, I practically fly down the stairs and out the door.

It's not too cold out tonight, since it's the middle of April and all. It hasn't been too long since Craig left. I can still catch him. I start running toward his house, hoping to catch him on the way. I suck at running, but this is for Craig. After about five minutes, I catch sight of him up ahead. The streetlights make it easy to spot him. I'm about to call out to him but he veers off to the right and past his house. I stop running to catch my breath. Where is he going if he's not going home? Maybe Clyde's? They are best friends, after all. I think Clyde's fat and stupid, but Craig sees something in him. I don't know, but the thought of him running to Clyde and not me makes me mad. Really mad. I take off again, ready to grab him and tell him not to choose Clyde over me. That would be terrible and then I'd have to resort to drastic measures to make sure that it didn't happen.

When I catch up with him, I'm only about thirty feet away when he hears me. He turns around and makes a face, stopping. "Tweek, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Stopping you…from going…to…um…" I pant out. I feel silly, but I have to stop him, to shake some sense into him. Well, he's not walking anymore so he might not being going too far from me after all. It's then that I realize that Clyde's house is further back down the street. Craig passed it while I was trying to get to him. So…where is he going now? At least I don't have to worry about Clyde and his ridiculous fat face.

Craig just looks at me for a minute, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his hoodie. Once I've caught my breath, he shakes him head. "…why are you so hell-bent on stopping me?" he asks. He doesn't sound mad now. He sounds sad, like how sad his eyes looked earlier in my room. Craig is too proud to cry. He's never cried in front of other people, as far as I can tell. But he sounds like he wants to. His voice is all thick and scratchy sounding. I wouldn't be mean about it. Surely he knows that. "It doesn't matter how long I stay gone from my house. It'll happen again anyway."

Those words make my stomach twist up, but not in a good way. They make me hurt, thinking of how Craig has to walk around on eggshells in his house, the place that he should feel safest. No wonder he makes such good grades in school. He even does after school activities, like basketball and stuff. I never knew why and he never told me, but that has to be it. He's probably looking to get a scholarship that'll give him a full ride out of this hell hole.

"Then stay with me!" I blurt out before thinking. I mean, my house is way better than most kids'.

Craig raises an eyebrow at me. "What?" he asked, as if he doesn't understand what I just said.

"Come s-stay with me! My parents won't mind and you'll be safe a-and we can have sex all the time and I'll—"

"Shut up." He interrupts me, putting his hand over my mouth. I stop, confused again. I thought that that sounded like a great idea. "You're being really loud. I don't want anyone to hear about this." He sighs and takes his hand away, looking down the street. "Let's go someplace more private, okay? Then you can be as loud and annoying as you want."

Asshole Craig. I can handle this Craig. This is the Craig that everyone else in South Park gets to deal with. I keep quiet as I follow him, though, not wanting to upset him and have him run from me again. I reach out for his hand though, and I'm pleasantly surprised when he lets me, linking our fingers together tightly. It sends a chill through me. I like that Craig likes me enough to hold my hand. It's stupid, but then little things make me the happiest.

He leads us to a small wooded area just outside the main suburbs and pulls me into the trees with him. If I were with anyone else, I'd be scared. People being lead into the woods rarely ends well. I'm with Craig, though. Craig wouldn't let anything happen to me. I watch him as he lets out a long breath and looks down at the ground, shuffling his feet. He's still holding my hand and, as if he just notices that, he squeezes it.

"Okay…um…so why the hell would you want me to stay with you?" he asks, not bothering to look up. That's got to be the dumbest question ever.

"B-Because if you go to your house you'll g-get hurt. And I like it w-when you're there and my p-parents like you…" I ramble, ticking off the reasons on my free hand.

"You know I can't just leave my house forever, though. I can't. It's not legal, for one thing. Trust me, I've tried." Craig is looking even sadder. I can't help it when I pull my hand from him and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him tight. We don't hug very often and Craig is tense in my grasp. I almost pull away but he wraps his arms around me and lets me hold him for a minute. "I tried to hide out at Clyde's house. My parents forced me to come back. That…was a really bad night." He's whispering, like if he says it any louder his dad will jump out from the trees and snatch him away. "I just have to make it 'til I graduate. Then I can get as far away from them as possible. I've already applied for colleges on the east and west coasts. I just have to make it through this next year."

I've never heard Craig talk this much all at one time. He must have been holding this in for a while. I run my fingers over his back, laying my head on his shoulder, just listening. Maybe all he needed was someone to listen? Clyde's not very good at that and if he told the guidance counselor, he'd be in foster care already. Maybe that's why he's gravitated toward me in the past half a year. Everyone knows I have a lot of issues and not very many friends and that I don't ever talk to anyone. I'm safe for him to tell because I won't tell anyone else.

"…well…" I start, nuzzling his neck. "You can still a-always come to my house if you need to. I c-can get my mom to give you a key."

Craig doesn't say anything. He just nods and lays his head on top of mine. I don't know how long we stand there, though it's kind of nice to just be together in the quiet. Before too long, he shifts and I feel his breath by my ear. "Thanks." he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear. It makes me shiver despite my jacket and I smile just a little. He only does things like this when we're completely alone. It makes me feel like he cares about me a lot more than he lets on. I don't ever call him out on it though. He might stop and then I wouldn't get blush-inducing ear kisses.

I lean up then and nuzzle at his chin until his turns his head and I press my lips to his. His lips are always a little chapped, but I kinda like the rough feeling. He kisses me back softly, even reaches up to pet my hair. He's getting more comfortable with things like this, the things that happen outside of actual sex. Speaking of sex…

"We should get back. Y-you can say we were…nn…working on homework o-or something." I pull back just a little, taking one of his hands in mine. He looks hesitant, but he holds my hand and lets me lead him out of the trees and back toward my house. He even holds my hand the entire walk back, which only serves to heighten my sudden need for him to be as close to me as humanly possible.

We get back to my house and I shut and lock the door behind Craig. After kicking off our shoes, I lead the way up to my room, leaving him there sitting on my bed to tell my mom and dad that we are back and that Craig is staying tonight. When I get back to my room, Craig is sitting there, looking at his feet, depressed again. I would be depressed if I lived in a hell like his house. I shut my door and turn off my light, turning on the little lamp on my nightstand. In this soft light, he looks even sadder. I hate seeing people sad, especially my parents and Craig.

I do the one thing I know for a fact that I'm good at doing. I sit next to Craig and pull him close to me, kissing him gently. I'm good at kissing and everyone likes to be kissed, right? Craig will feel better and maybe even want a second round of sex if I keep kissing him. I feel him kiss back and I let out a small sigh. God, he feels so good pressed up against me like this. I wonder if he's feeling the same way. I pull back just a hair, enough to take a breath and reach up to touch his cheek. "I can help you, I-I think."

Craig tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow again. I roll my eyes and kiss his nose. "I can help you, nnn, to forget f-for a little bit." Sometimes Craig is a little thick and needs clarification.

He seems to catch on, but he frowns instead. No. No. This isn't what was supposed to happen. I hate it when he frowns.

"I'm still a little sore." He shrugs and looks away. OH. I get it. I laugh and run my hands up through his hair, knocking off his stupid hat in the process. "You know, I-I really like it when you fuck me. Are you too sore f-for that?" Even with ADHD and manic depression and occasional auditory hallucinations, I too have raging hormones like any other teenage boy.

Craig actually smiles. Oh my god. The sun and all the stars and planets shine from his face when he smiles. It don't even need the lamp on. Seriously. He's so fucking beautiful when he smiles and I can do nothing but surge up and crash my face into his, kissing and licking my way into his mouth. A helpless moan comes from Craig and he grips me tighter, moving to press me down into the mattress. Yes. This is what I wanted and this is what Craig needs. I shift so that I can spread my legs underneath him, wrapping them around his hips and kissing him deeper, harder. I want him to know just how much he's wanted and needed. He needs to be reassured that he's so much better than how his parents treat him.

Yeah, okay. I'm not the best at reassuring people, considering most of the time I need reassurance that I'm not completely out of touch with reality, but still. He's my Craig and I have to take care of him however I can.

Craig reaches up and tangles one hand in my hair, tugging at the short strands. I whimper because, holy shit, I love having my hair pulled. He does too and I do it back, tugging on the shaggy almost-black hair at the nape of his neck. He groans and his other hand slides down to my hips, fingers slipping under my shirt and nails digging into my skin. I can already feel myself getting incredibly hard, but I really like foreplay. Craig is so inexplicably good at it, though he claims I'm the first person he's ever been with. I don't buy it, but now isn't really a good time to bring that up.

"Fuck…" he gasps, moving away from me. "Clothes off. Now." Geez. I forgot how demanding he is when he tops. Well…he's demanding no matter what, but a lot more so when he's on top. But whatever. I sit up and tear off my shirt and pants and boxers as fast as I can, watching as Craig does the same. He has such an amazing body. He's thin, but not sickly, like me. He's got a soft tan from playing outside a lot and he's got these muscles that aren't too bulky, but they're really nice to squeeze and hold onto. As soon as he's naked, I grab him and tug him down on top of me again, moaning at the sensation of our bodies touching. He moans too and I wrap my arms around his chest, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders. I like being able to hold onto him like this, completely wrapped around him. All I can see and feel and smell and taste and hear is him. It's like only the two of us exist when we're like this.

…I may care for Craig more than I care to share with him. Just a little. Maybe. Or a whole fucking lot. I won't tell him, though. I never will. Especially not with how his life is going at the moment. But I'll show him every chance that I get. Like now.

His hands trail down my body and he holds my hips as he starts to grind his erection into my own. I feel my eyes roll back into my head and gasp. He kisses me hard then pulls away, moving to kiss down my chin and to my neck, sucking and licking and leaving hickies. I absolutely love when I have hickies. It's like some unspoken sign that I belong to Craig. I like belonging to Craig. We don't talk about what we do to other people, though I'm sure they can guess. It doesn't really bother me, but Craig doesn't want his family to have another reason to hate him. I understand, so I keep quiet. After all, who am I going to tell?

He starts to get rougher with me and I can't help the long groan that comes out of my throat at the feeling. My nails dig into his back and I hear him hiss, his hips moving faster now. I can't handle this. I have to have him inside me. Right. Now.

"Craig!" I gasp. "Fuck me."

I'm so glad that I never have to ask twice.

He reaches over into my nightstand and fumbles around for a second before coming back with our bottle of lube. I asked my mom to buy some after the first time we had sex and tried to do it with hand lotion. I will never use lotion again. It was awful.

Craig kisses me again, a little less intense this time, but only because he's trying to hold back until he's inside me. I completely understand. I'd be pretty upset if this was all over before it even started. I spread my legs wider as he moves to kneel between them. He squirts some lube onto his fingers and smirks as he reaches down and slowly presses one finger inside me.

"Mmm…" I love this feeling. We have enough sex that this isn't even uncomfortable anymore and my body recognizes it as the feeling right before something very very good happens. I can hear my breathing becoming more ragged as he moves his finger around and in and out of me. When he adds a second one, I moan and feel my face flush with heat.

Craig smiles and then does something that he's only ever done once before. He leans down and, with his free hand, takes my dick and brings it to his mouth, licking it.

Oh holy fuck.

"Nnng! Craig!" I reach down and grip onto his hair when I feel his mouth close around the head, the wet heat surrounding it as he begins to suck. "Shit…"

Craig sucks harder and moves his fingers deeper into me and I feel like I'm going to faint. I'm glad I'm lying down otherwise I probably would. This feels too good. It should be illegal. Then again, I'm afraid of ever doing anything illegal, so, maybe not.

Craig's fingers finally find my prostate and I jump, crying out way too loudly. "I-I'm gonna…Fucking stop…" I beg, squirming beneath him. Not only is he making it difficult to not come, I don't want my mom or dad coming in to tell us to be quiet. Craig looks smug when he pulls back, that asshole. He knows exactly what he can do to me and there's nothing I can do about it.

He doesn't say anything as he lifts my right leg up over his shoulder and slicks some more lube over his cock. He's not huge, but he's still pretty big, although I don't really have anything to compare it with. He presses the tip of his dick against my hole and I tense for a second. I always do. I remember that first time. It hurt so much, but I know it'll just be uncomfortable for a few minutes now. He knows this too and he reaches down to wrap his hand around my cock and pump it slowly as he eases in. My breath catches in my throat at the feeling. The slow burn and stretch of his entering me is one feeling I'll never stop wanting. I ache for it when I'm away from him for too long.

Craig lets out a soft grunt of pleasure and smiles down at me. I look up at him through half lidded eyes and arch my back, making him press all the way inside. "You feel so good…" I whisper, biting my lip. I don't know how he finds me sexy, but he told me once that he likes it when I bite my lip. He says it's one of the reasons he became attracted to me. I'll believe it for now. I like doing things he finds appealing. I like making him happy. And good god, he looks pretty damn happy right now.

He holds onto my right thigh and keep pumping my cock with his other hand, beginning to move inside me. After a few thrusts, the burning goes away, replaced with a wonderful throbbing pressure. I can't stop my moans and whines as he moves faster and it seems like he can't either. His face is flushed pink and he's panting in between his groans.

My hands fall to the bed, fingers grasping and tugging at the blankets. Craig is getting really good at this. My eyes fly wide open and I gasp sharply when he finds my prostate again and I start crying out louder as he keeps hitting it. He starts stroking me faster because he knows that when I get louder I'm getting closer. "Oh god!" I cry, not caring too much about my parents at the moment. They'll at least have enough courtesy to wait until we're done to chide us about being so loud.

Craig gets rougher again and grits his teeth, mostly just panting and huffing now. I know it's because he's upset and he's got a lot on his mind. I don't really care. I like it when he's a little violent. It's really hot. Like when he throws me into a bathroom stall at school with no warning and fucks me against the wall. Mmm.

I'm not thinking clearly, or at all, really. I feel fuzzy and light and like I'm about to trip over the edge of a cliff. My stomach tightens and I feel that familiar throbbing and oh fuck.

"Craig! I'm-!" That's all I can say before I'm coming, arching up off the bed, toes curling, crying myself hoarse.

"Goddamn…" I hear him groan and I know he's watching me and getting off even more on it. He's always like that, always watching me so closely during sex. Whatever helps him works for me. I feel him still moving and after a short time he tenses and let out a low groan. I feel him come inside me and I sigh contentedly. Call me weird (and almost everyone does), but I really have gotten to like that feeling. He lets go of my legs and pulls out, flopping down beside me.

I feel empty but satisfied and I roll over to snuggle into his chest. He looks a lot better than he did a mere hour ago, stalking down the sidewalk, angry. The creases are gone from his forehead and he's even smiling a little bit. He pulls the blanket up over us and tugs me close and we kiss. It's a simple kiss, but I know that it speaks a thousand words that Craig could never say out loud. Like how scared he is, or how he's glad he has someone like me and even stupid Clyde, or how he knows that the pain will end one day.

I lean my head on his chest and close my eyes, listening to his rapid heartbeat steady and slow down. I'm glad I could help, at least a little bit. I wish I could be of more help, a better source of comfort for him. I open my eyes back up and I can see the bruises on his knees where he probably falls down after being hit. I feel myself frown and I'm glad he can't see it. I don't want to have to tell him that I'm terrible at comforting people and that I'm more worried now than I was a little while ago. I don't want to have him feel scared and alone because I suck.

I can feel his breathing suddenly get ragged again, like he's holding it in so that he doesn't make any noise. His body tenses next to me and I know he's crying, or trying really hard not to. God, this is so hard. I do suck. I can't take care of him like I should. But, he's happy when we have sex and when I kiss him and when we go for walks. I can use those things to help him until I can do this right, because he deserves to have someone who's willing to try to make him feel better.

So, I'll learn to be Craig's comfort. I'll be here for him when he's so hurt and alone that he doesn't know how to go on. I'll be here when his skin in so stained in dark muddy colors that he thinks he's disgusting. And I'll kiss him and let him use my body to for comfort.

I'll do anything to keep the hurt out of his dark blue eyes. I may not be that good at it, but it's got to be better than nothing.

_And it's too bad you're so sad_

_I wish you could have had what I had_

_And it's so sad_

_It's too bad_

_Maybe I can make you feel better_

_Oh, maybe I can make you feel better…_

THE END.


End file.
